Chapter 03
I'm not a cheater
Colin
I spend most of the day out of the office. Meetings back-to-back, the kind that leave little room to breathe.
When I finally step into my office in the late afternoon and see the pile Margaret left on my desk, I know it’s going to be one of those nights.
I think about calling Ceci, but the thought of hearing that faint disappointment in her voice makes me stop. She pretends well, but I’ve known her too long. It’s easier for both of us if she just assumes I won’t be home early.
Hours pass before I even notice the fatigue setting in. I’m in a good rhythm, clearing tomorrow’s work in advance, when I sense someone standing in front of me.
I look up, and my gaze follows the curve of a navy-blue dress that fits a little too well, the neckline cut just enough to make you wonder.
“I knocked. Three times. You didn’t hear.”
“Maya,” I say, eyes meeting hers. “Working late again?”
The look she gives me says she knows I was staring. She enjoys it. And honestly, I didn’t bother to hide it.
“I could say the same about you, sir.” She bites her lip.
“This is my normal,” I reply evenly. “And drop the ‘sir.’ Everyone here calls me Colin.”
“Colin,” she repeats slowly, like she’s tasting it.
“Can I help you with something?” I ask, cutting through the tension.
She holds out a few reports. We go through them, line by line, until there’s nothing left to discuss.
But it’s only the first of many nights. Before long, she comes by more often.
Every day there’s a reason. A file, a question, an errand that could easily wait until morning. And every day, I let her.
Before long, she’s doing tasks I’d normally leave for Margaret. Then, conversations that start with work drift into something else.
Something I don’t name, because naming it would make it real.
I tell myself it’s nothing. That I’m allowing it because it’s meaningless.
Maybe that’s exactly what I’m doing.
Maya
The first time I met Colin, almost a month ago, that old saying “you take my breath away” took on an entirely new meaning.
No photo, no video, not even seeing him from across the office prepared me for what it feels like to stand close to him.
Being near him is a complete sensory takeover. The scent of his cologne, the force of his presence, the unspoken authority that seems to shift the air around him.
Every detail feels intentional, sculpted. He’s the kind of man a Renaissance artist would’ve sold his soul to immortalize.
He’s captivating.
Tall. Blond. Steel-gray eyes that didn’t just see, they evaluated, set in a fair-skinned face with clean lines and striking contrast. Broad shoulders, solid and unmissable.
Everything about him was controlled. Measured.
He didn’t smile when our eyes met. He didn’t have to.
There was heat beneath the restraint. The dangerous kind.
I almost made a fool of myself that first day. A stutter, a nervous laugh, but I caught the flicker of amusement in his eyes. It wasn’t mockery. It was curiosity. And that told me everything I needed to know.
From that moment on, I made it my mission to stay on his mind, even if only for a second at a time.
It wasn’t hard to find him. A meeting with Jonathan here, a stop by the PR floor there, a coffee run that just happened to align with his schedule. Whenever our eyes met, and he gave me that brief, measured nod, I let my gaze linger, saying all the things words couldn’t.
The first night I stayed late and went looking for him, I wondered if I’d overplayed my hand. For a moment, his reaction made me think I was pushing too far. But he didn’t send me away. He told me to stay.
And then he told me again the next day.
Now, we’ve found a rhythm. One that feels easy. Addictive.
Which means it’s time to take the next step.
Colin might not have seen me coming, but soon enough, I’ll make sure he won’t be able to let me go.
Colin
“Today was one of those days I wish I could go back to a time when all I had to do was study and pass exams.”
It’s late. The kind of late that makes the skyline blur through the glass, and the hum of the city feels like a distant echo.
We’ve been working side by side for more than two hours before Maya ordered dinner from a nearby restaurant, the fifth time in a little over a week.
By now, there’s a rhythm to it.
Files spread across my desk, muted conversation, takeout containers stacked neatly to one side. A comfortable silence that shouldn’t feel as easy as it does.
She asked about my workload, and that’s what drew the complaint out of me, the fleeting wish to rewind to simpler days. She’s twirling a lock of dark hair around her finger, and I catch myself watching the motion longer than I should.
“What’s it like?” she asks softly.
I look up, distracted. “Hmm?”
“The feeling of being on top of the world,” she says, eyes on me. “And in control of so many lives.”
I can’t help but laugh. “I guarantee it’s not what people imagine. Most days, it’s more of a burden than anything else.”
“Burdens are for shoulders strong enough to carry them,” she replies, voice lower now. “And even through the suit, I can see yours are very… strong.”
Her tone lands exactly where she wants it to. I smile despite myself and shake my head.
“It’s from Gone with the Wind,” she adds when she sees my expression. “The quote. Scarlett was my first favorite heroine.”
“Not Melanie?” I ask, teasing.
Maya laughs, incredulous. “No. Definitely not Melanie. It was always Scarlett.”
Our eyes meet. Her tongue passes over her lower lip, drawing my gaze there despite myself. The air stretches between us—seconds, perhaps minutes—until I clear my throat.
“It’s getting late. You should head home. I’ll finish up here and follow shortly.”
“Of course. Time always flies when I’m here.” Her voice softens. “Every day I work with you just proves I chose the right company to invest my time, and my life in.”
“The company is certainly lucky to have you,” I say evenly.
“Just the company?” she counters, smiling.
I don’t answer. I gesture toward the door instead.
As she turns, a few papers slip from her hands. Before I can react, she bends to gather them. The slit at the back of her skirt parts slightly, the outline of her body framed by the light. For a split second, my body betrays me.
I stay seated, behind the desk.
When she stands, she glances back over her shoulder, eyes glinting with the kind of amusement that lingers. Then she walks out.
From the hallway, her voice drifts back, light and knowing.
“See you tomorrow, Colin.”
I know exactly what she’s doing.
She has a killer body, and she knows it. I’m only human, when I see an attractive woman, the thought crosses my mind. It always does.
I’ve played this game before, too many times to count.
I know where the line is. And I won’t let it go any further than this.
I won’t cross it.
I’m not one of them.
I’m not a cheater.